“That first 200 was pretty good,” Tim said as he followed me on his bike, “but you need to pick it up for the last 400.” Right, I gasped to myself. And you can pick up my lung when I cough it up. It was my first “coached” running workout and a whirlwind of thoughts rushed through my oxygen-deprived brain as I did the third of my four prescribed 600-meter…

It’s been 35 years since I’ve been under the influence of a coach. Then, playing high school baseball, I listened only out of fascination over how this guy thought his berating and belittling was motivating us. He was a study in growth-stunted, ex-jock, why-didn’t-i-get-drafted psychology.